Food For Remembrance

Spring is upon us and as it arrives with it comes thought of tilling the land and planting. The First Peoples of the Universe have always known the essence of Spirit moving within Mother Earth as she brings forth bounty for all to enjoy.

Native Americans have always relied on corn, squash and beans as a staple for sustinance. I carry the red blood in my veins from years past and relate to this emotion. The smell of the earth as it is turned and readied for planting. The feel of the moistness in the soft dirt is as velvet to my touch.

Elation erupts when the first sprouts from the seeds emerge from the ground seeking Father Sun's bright warm rays. My mouth salivates as I think of the seasoned beans with cornbread and freshly picked peppers. Nothing can compare with the taste the sliced tomatoes fresh from the vine to add to the meal. Fresh corn cannot be described in words. How many of you know what a roasting ear is? It was locally pronounced roastneirz.

These thoughts lead me back into childhood and the meaning food had then. I was reared on a dairy farm where we milked 150 cows twice daily. We farmed growing our vegetables, grains and meats. We had hogs, chickens, beef cattle, turkeys, guineas, dairy cattle, and horses. Living on the farm, we also had wild turkey, squirrel, rabbit, opossum(kills me to write it that way since we pronounce it possum), deer and raccoon in abundance. We had ponds stocked with all manner of fresh water fish and creeks and rivers nearby. Food was pure delight for our tastebuds every day of the year.

Summertime brought the bustle of a myriad of tasks to be performed. Children and adults alike had a full day. Some days were pure torture in the hot sun hoeing weeds from around the tender plants. This was forgotten the minute the comforting taste of fresh vegetables touched the tip of your tongue.

Some food grew naturally in the country. Polk Salad Greens was a favorite. We would pick small poke leaves in the spring when they are tender before they become bitter. Put young leaves in water and boil for a short time. Pour off water and boil again, with fat meat or bacon. The same process was followed to prepare dock, stinging nettles. Leaves from the lambsquarter plant do not require par boiling and can be eaten all summer. Par boiling for Polk Salad leaves is necessary because if not done the greens are poisonous.

Fresh blackberries, huckleberries, possum grapes, muskedines, dew berries and many times wild strawberries were a delite to the senses. Persimmons and plums grew wild and enticed us to pick and eat. Pies and cobblers filled the need for sugar after a meal. Fresh berries with Whipped Cream from our own milk is almost sensual. Daddy's favorite was Plum Pudding and will always bring precious memories to mind of what a joyful childhood I had. And lets not forget the way fresh made jelly and jam makes a buttered biscuit taste in the morning with the fresh eggs. Yum-Yum!

A hot day calls for refreshment breaks and nothing could beat going to the cooler where ice cold water was spraying on the milk cans to keep them cold and finding a cold ripe watermelon just waiting to be cut. Oh, it was so good. Not only did it serve to fill that hollow spot in the mid afternoon after working the fields, it offered splendid entertainment. My sisters, cousins and I loved watermelon seed fights.

We had various fruit and nut trees as well. Grandaddy always had a peach orchard and we had a few apple, pear and fig trees as well. We had pecan, black walnut (refered to as hickory nuts), and chestnut trees. Every season held pure delight for our taste buds. I loved sugar cane dripping with succulent sweetness. Wintertime found us roasting nuts over the fireplace and I promise you they tasted better then than now. We even grew our own peanuts and popcorn. How many children are afforded this rich blessed environment in today's world?

Meals were a source of family bonding. We shared days, lives, thoughts , jokes, all was brought to the table. I remember one year Granny was going to play a trick on my great-aunt Nora. Aunt Nora was a character and stern is a mild way of describing her personality. She always bragged that nobody'd ever catch her eatin' a possum, not even if it had been fed in a cage for two or more weeks before butchering and cooking. And she always added for emphasis, couldn't nobody fool her either.

Granny cooked Daddy's birthday dinner and invited Aunt Nora and her family over. We had two tables covered with scrupmptious food...purple hull peas, turnip greens with diced roots, butterbeans, chicken and dumplings, sweet potato dumplings, chicken and dressing and what Aunt Nora thought was roast with sweet potatoes on the side. She ate, and she ate, and she ate. She proclaimed it was the best roast she ever had. To this day, we all laugh at how much possum she ate that day and never knew it until her dying day. We all knew the wrath that would have followed had she found out she'd been duped.

Making hominy is a treasured memory too. There is just something mystical to a child about stirring food in a big black wash-pot over an open fire. It is a task that usually took us from one day into the next and we loved being outside at night.

Nothing was as wonderful as feeding the silage in wintertime we worked so hard to put up for the cattle in the summertime. We had a big blue silo with T.R. Skippers and daughters emblazoned on the side it was stored in. There was a huge feed room daddy and had built a fireplace in so we could be inside and warm while we waited for the silage to be slung out by the augar in the feed troughs. This process took two to three hours. During this time Daddy would tell us stories of his childhood and we would roast marshmallows, pecans or peanuts over the fire.

We worked hard; we played hard. We farmed the land, broke and rode horses, milked cows, fed all the other animals, cleaned the dairy. We were tired at night, but rested well. A bath and meal felt and tasted like a treasure newly found on a daily basis. Great Spirit blessed me with wealth untold and a love and respect for Mother Nature, Father Sun, Sister Water, Brother Fire and the bounty they can produce if nurtured and honored.

My portfolio offers several articles on Native American recipes and the reverence the First Peoples give to the food that we eat. There can be found some recipes that are traditional Native American, others are recipes collected over the years as time and availability of foods changed. Please visit it anytime.